


Conarra Oneshots

by Nic_H



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Human, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 23:37:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16377203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nic_H/pseuds/Nic_H
Summary: Collection of Connor/Kara oneshots.





	1. Coffee ShopAU

Connara Drabble: Coffee shop!AU

 

* * *

 

Since moving back to Detroit, Kara had come to appreciate the days of blissful quietness. Days where she could sit back, relax, and enjoy her rare moments free from her daily worries.

Taking another sip from her coffee, Kara took another glance around the cosy little café she was in, taking note of the newcomers, few as they were, and smiling kindly at the regulars.

The coffee shop was tucked away in a little side alley off the main plaza, and with big corporate coffee chains becoming the main attraction, it was surprising that the little coffee shop was still around. Looking around the spacious room, Kara couldn’t imagine getting coffee from anywhere else.

From the hard timber flooring, to the rustic décor and the pleasant staff, it was the perfect escape; a little slice of paradise.

The sound of the bell signalling someone entering the café broke Kara from her inner musings. Looking up, Kara eyed the man who entered. If she were a romantic, she’d have said her heart skipped a beat.

Years ago, once upon a time long past, she might’ve been. But now, she regarded him with cat-like curiosity. The first thing Kara noticed was his overwhelming awkwardness. His too stiff posture, lips pulled in to a grim line. Even his sharp suit seemed suffocating, especially in a place like this.

Kara laughed internally, wondering how someone like him wandered their way here. Though, looking around, she realised that people from all walks of life frequented what Kara referred to as her own personal haven. Students from the local university working on a group assignment, couples on dates, businessmen tapping away on their laptops, and people like her: here to simply appreciate life.

So lost in her observations elsewhere, Kara turned around, surprised, when the man who entered earlier was taking determined steps to her seat. She caught the golden flash of his police badge and unwarranted panic filled her system before she calmed down.

She wasn’t running. Not anymore. She was safe. And free. Free from the clutches of the ones who had tried to hurt her and Alice.

Coffee in one hand and a stack of papers in the other, the detective cleared his throat and tried adjusting his tie (rather poorly, Kara noted) while still holding his cup.

“Excuse me miss? I was wondering if this seat was vacant. All others seem to be occupied.”

His voice, in a strange way, was comforting and trustworthy. Strange. She looked across the booth she was sitting in, and noted it was spacious enough for both of them, if a little intimate for literal strangers. Kara returned her gaze and spoke.

“Uhh… yeah, go ahead. Hadn’t realised this place was so packed.”

And when he smiled at her response, Kara thought that the romantic part of her that burnt out so long ago was suddenly reignited and she could feel the slight heat in her cheeks. That smile was so pure, like she had just made his day with such a simple request. It felt rude that she still didn’t know his name.

“My name’s Kara, by the way.”

His head jolted up. And suddenly brown eyes locked on blue and Kara felt time stop. Suddenly his hand shot forward, nearly knocking his coffee over the papers he had meticulously laid out on the table, and Kara met his hand half way. She could feel the roughness of his palm, and the quieted strength his unassuming form seemed to have, but also the gentleness in his firm handshake.

“My name’s Connor Anderson, pleased to meet you.”

 

_End._

* * *

 


	2. Jetpacking

Jetpacking (Or Connor gets to be the little spoon)

 

* * *

Soft morning light flittered through the blinds, bathing the room in a warm orange glow. Connor’s LED pulsed a rapid blue, the only indication he was out of standby mode. Through his thermal receptors, he could feel the slight chill in the air and decided to snuggle further in the blankets rather than turn them off.

Though androids didn’t need beds (and Connor was more than fine standing in the corner to recharge his systems), it was one of many small things androids did to showcase their newfound autonomy. A small part of a whole that helped androids feel more free from the chains of the past.

Truthfully speaking, the only reason he owned one was due to his better half. If Hank were to tell the tale he’d claim it was an argument to last the ages: the pinnacle of CyberLife engineering verses a mother bear with a point to prove.  Needless to say, Connor stood no chance. With her hands on her hips and physically looking up at him, Connor still felt like he was the one over half a foot shorter. One final huff and the argument was over with a ‘Don’t you dare go in standby mode standing up, just buy a damn bed like a normal person’.

Because that’s what they were now. A people. Living, sentient beings with free will.

Looking back he did more to hinder that reality then help it. He could spend the rest of his life paying back all that he’d took and it still wouldn’t be enough. And though others have forgiven him (not himself though. _Never himself_ ) they wouldn’t soon forget.

The android sent by CyberLife. The infamous deviant hunter.  That’s who he was and who he always will be. At the slight shifting of the sheets, unbidden thoughts run through his processes. _Not by them._ Images, memories, are pulled unwillingly from his hard drives.

Rough words and rougher pats on the back. Innocent laughter and carefree smiles. Soft hands and warmer eyes.

Connor shook his head, knowing it had no actual effect on his thought processes.

_No._

What right did he have to happiness? What right did he have to enjoy _life_ in all its wonders and heart aches when he had caused so much pain and suffering and _death_ to those who just wanted to be _free_? He can still taste the Thirium on his tongue, the metaphorical blood on his hands. Blood that refuses to come off after his scrubbed his hands raw; right down to the plastic (And Connors ashamed that Kara has caught him in the act more than once, blue drops running down the sink and white hands that have nothing to do with deactivating his synthetic skin.)

Before his system has a chance to overheat descending further down the rabbit hole of his new found conscience, Connor feels strong, slender arms wrap around his chest, bringing warmth that that settles deep within his very being. On instinct Connor reaches for Kara’s hands and weaves his fingers between hers, the empty spaces filling out perfectly.

A quiet hum that barely reaches his advanced audio receptors eases his troubled thoughts enough to think with clarity. He can feel his stress levels return to normal and the deafening whirr of his cooling system quietens to silence. Before he can apologise for waking her, Kara nuzzles her cheek on his back and whispers soothing words that his heard so many times but still can’t get himself to believe.

“It’s alright Connor. We forgive you. I forgive you. Why can’t you do the same? You were a machine then, following orders. Not anymore.”

In his base programming, Connor was designed to show no flaws. He was to be the pride and joy of humanities greatest achievement. The perfect agent to do CyberLife’s dirty work. Maybe that’s why he enjoyed being comforted so much. In Connors mind, CyberLife can go fuck itself. Like father like son.

Kara continued to rub soothing circles with her thumb over his hand and right now, Connor didn’t want to move from his position on the bed. Yes, he very much enjoyed what his databases referred to as being the ‘little spoon’. Only with Kara did Connor truly feel free from his core programming. Truly feel like a sentient being. With her, he felt like the _deviant_ he is, and not the _machine_ he was.

With Kara, Connor could fly away from all his worries. Could fly so far away he didn’t have to live in fear of Amanda taking control of him again. He could fly anywhere, with her small frame wrapped around him. His own personal jetpack.

 

END

* * *

 

 


	3. Babysitting

Babysitting. Connor is left in charge of Alice. Alice is human because I want her to be.

 

* * *

Connor stared at Alice.

Alice stared back.

For the third time in his admittedly short life (shorter still since he was actually considered living), Connor was lost with no idea what to do. The first time he was this confused was when he was still denying his deviancy. The second was when Kara had first proposed to ‘go out for coffee’, regardless of the fact that as androids they had no need for the beverage. Hank had helped him figure that one out and Connor found out he did not like the feeling of embarrassment all that much.

And now came to the current moment. The fated third encounter with this feeling. What did kids actually enjoy doing? There was minimal data in his hard drives on child caring, CyberLife rightfully deeming it of minimal importance. He also wasn’t _programmed_ to entertain children. It was just not his in mechanical DNA.

And then the dreaded words came forth; the herald of his own personal apocalypse.

“Connor, I’m bored.”

Connor’s processors were going in to overdrive. Kara had _trusted_ him to take care of Alice and he would not fail. He thought back to what Hank and he had bonded over.

Solving crimes: She was too young. Alice could get hurt. Kara would be pissed.

Life and death situations: He’d had his share already. Alice could get hurt. Kara would be pissed.

Drinking: It was illegal. Alice could get hurt. Kara would be pissed.

On second thought, maybe Kara was right. Maybe Hank was influencing him a little too much (Connor honestly didn’t see the problem. Weren’t sons supposed to take after their father?)

Then it hit him. Music. Connor blinked and tilted his head slightly.

“Do you enjoy music, Alice?”

The child seemed to think over the question before answering quietly.

“I’d like to. I never really got the chance to listen to any be-before Kara-”

With his enhanced optical sensors, Connor could spot the small pools in the corner of her eyes. Thinking quick, Connor leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her trembling frame.

“Everything’s fine now Alice. He can’t hurt you and Kara anymore, he’s gone now. Here, listen to this.”

Wirelessly connecting to the speakers of the TV, Connor quickly compiled a playlist and mentally hit play. Obviously he did not play heavy metal. He had done a brief but informative search on music children generally found enjoyable.

The opening tune of the song filled the silent room and Connor could feel Alice tremble less, stopping altogether not long after. She pulled away from his embrace and smiled up at him in thanks.

“Hey Connor, do you think I’d be able to do coin tricks like you?”

Connor smiled back.

“Of course! Here, I’ll teacher you.”

Maybe it wasn’t as stressful as he first thought.

* * *

Before Kara even walked through the door she knew something was amiss. Loud muffled sounds were coming from the door and it was definitely past Alice’s bed time. Marching forward Kara opened the door to a scene she instantly saved to her memory banks.

“You’ve violated the law, criminal scum.”

Alice had Connor pinned down, tie wrapped around his wrists while waving a toy gun (she hoped it was at least) at his head. Half the couches were overturned and a pillow fort had been made with cushions, chairs and sheets that had to have come from her bedroom. Heavy metal was blasting through the speakers and Kara recognised it as one Connor and Hank listen to frequently.

At her entrance both Connor and Alice stopped as if frozen in time, before looking her way perfectly in sync. She saw Connor’s LED flash yellow and the music stopped. Before he could try to explain himself, Alice got off Connor and ran up to hug her.

“Mum, mum, mum look! Look what I can do!”

Alice stepped back and pulled out a familiar coin, flicking it up and catching it. A simple trick, but Alice looked like she was on top of the world. Kara smiled affectionately and leaned down to pick her up with a bit of effort before kissing her forehead. She was getting a little big to be doing this but Kara had so much missed time to catch up on she couldn’t help herself.

“It’s time for bed, love. It’s way past your bedtime. Did you have fun with Connor?”

Alice yawned loudly, as if only just realising how late it was.

“Loads of fun. Can he come more often mum? I like him.”

“So do I kitten, so do I.”

Kara slowly made her way to Alice’s bedroom, side eyeing Connor on her way past him. He was still on the ground, hair messed up and shirt wrinkled.

[Don’t leave just yet. We are going to talk about this.]

Despite his best efforts, Connor couldn’t avoid the outcome. Kara was pissed.

END.

* * *

 

Not what I initially intended as a prompt I just lost interest in the one I was originally doing.

 

Take it easy.

 

 

 


	4. Compatible Hearts

Compatible Hearts. Inspired by the fact that Connor and Kara share some of the same bio components. Liberties taken.

The song ‘Hold On – Chord Overstreet’ helped with the mood.

Kinda proof read I'm a bit lazy. 

 

* * *

Connor was a fool; a fucking _idiot_ to think that CyberLife would be out of his life forever. Out of _their_ lives forever. One year, four months, three days and seven hours. That was all the time he had until his blissful peace had shattered hard and fast, the broken pieces scattered around him in the dark alley. Literally.

Who could have predicted a simple night out, just the two of them could end like this? This was supposed to be their special night; a night to define who they were to each other. Hank was babysitting Alice (Or the other way around, it was hard to tell sometimes), and Connor had been given the night off from Markus.

The words _shutdown imminent_ flashed an angry red in the corner of his vision but he ignored it, crawling his way over to the lifeless form beside him. He prayed to any and all higher beings his database could recount. It didn’t matter who or what, Connor would sell his soul (did he even have one?) to Lucifer himself if it meant the life in front of him could be saved.

The twin pools of blue blood on the floor mixed together, some his but most hers. As a prototype with combat capabilities, he was made of more durable plastic and more powerful components. He could take the abuse, the punishment, far better than her model.

_It should have been him._

She wasn’t their target. Never was until he’d waltzed in to her and Alice’s life. He’d been selfish, wanting more than he deserved. Wanting to be more than lines of code designed to be the perfect soldier. And look what it got him: a taste of happiness before he could fully savour it.

Finally reaching her, Connor rolled her on to her back and with a painful grunt sat up, gently placing her head in his lap. Trembling fingers reached out and stroked her hair, covering his hands in the blue blood leaking from the side of her scalp.

Eyelids flickered before opening fully, glazed blue eyes staring right through Connor.

“Connor? Everything’s blurry,” she sounded confused, “I’m cold Connor. So, so cold.”

 Her eye’s began to close and Connor frantically replied.

“Kara. Kara! Stay with me. Help’s on its way. Just hold on a little while longer.”

Connor knew that only one of them was going to make it out alive and he’d be damned if it was himself. A quick scan and Connor had a possible way to save her.

“We have compatible bio-components Kara. Take mine. They should hold long enough for you to make it out of this mess. Alice needs you.”

Kara’s body wracked with coughs, her systems trying to purge the Thirium from places it didn’t belong.

 “She needs you too, Connor.”

He dropped his eyes from her gaze a moment before meeting hers again with desperation.

 “Please Kara! Take them!” Connor’s voice cracked on the last words, his hand gently caressing her cheek as his voice softened, “you deserve to live far more than I do.”

In response Kara slowly shook her head, never breaking eye contact with him. Her tired blue eyes stared in to his and Connor could feel systems shutting down that had nothing to do with the damage to his body. He could feel his own resolve breaking.

“Connor, I know you’ve done the scans. I’m far too damaged to be repaired. Be strong Connor. For Alice. For me.”

His hands started shaking uncontrollably and red error warnings dotted his vision. He had done the scans. He had seen the statistics. He had just not wanted to believe the outcome. Connor’s shutdown timer ticked forward, but as little time as he had she had far less.

“I can download your memories to my storage banks. You’ll have a new body but it’d still be you!”

Connor was grasping at straws but he didn’t care. Quickly opening his transfer program, his synthetic skin deactivated to the stark white plastic. Kara’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“Connor stop! It won’t be the same. And if deviancy makes us human, then we need to accept the parts of humanity we like to forget.”

Kara’s hands lazily drifted towards the left side of her chest and if Connor needed lungs, his breath would’ve hitched. Even in her dazed state she had noticed the thickening stain of blue over his Thirium pump. This was the one outcome he didn’t want. The one outcome that would seal her fate.

“It’ll all be okay Kara. Just close your eyes. We can make it through this.”

Kara’s eyes defiantly stayed open.

“I don’t want the last thing I see to be darkness. I want to see _you_.”

Voice caught in his throat, Connor couldn’t respond. No matter how hard he tried, no sound would come out. Without his voice, Connor let his actions speak the words he couldn’t. He lifted her up gently, her side pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped securely around her. With Connor leaning down, Kara used the last bit of her strength to meet him half way.

For a few short moments the pain subsided, reduced to a dull throb. Error messages disappeared and Connor saw his shutdown timer stop dead in its tracks. All too soon the moment ended and Kara’s strength left her, no longer able to support her weight. As Connor slowed her descent to the floor, Kara turned her head to look at him one last time.

“I love you, Connor Anderson.”

The light faded from her eyes, and so too did the light in Connor’s. A world without her was not a world worth living in (he didn’t even get to say the words back to her for the first time).

…

Connor stayed embraced with the small child for what felt like eons, letting her deal with her grief the only way a child knew how. Alice was his responsibility now, and one of two reminders that Kara had left behind.

Yes she was gone, but a part of her would always be with him. Always near him. Always watching over him. They may have been two separate souls, but now they shared the same mechanical heart.

END.

* * *

 

First angst I've ever written. Take it easy smell the roses. 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Soulmate!AU

Big thanks to Cookie for introducing me to this brand of soulmate AU. You're a gift to this world so here's my gift to you.

…

It was a curious thing; the mystery behind everyone’s predestined other half. No one quite knows why or when it started, but since men first walked the earth the idea of soulmates has been around. From ancient manuscripts to Egyptian hieroglyphics and as far back as cave paintings, there was evidence of a telepathic link through melodies; harmonic connections between all living beings.

The ability to hear the music your soulmate was listening to did not always happen right after your birth. For some it did, but more often it took years (and in rare cases some never got the chance).

Connor was 6, an early bird if the government run surveys were to be believed. If he was being honest with himself, which he always was (Hank… _dad_ , said liars were for criminals and Connor was not a _criminal_ he was a detective in training), he did not enjoy it.

His soulmate, it seemed, enjoyed listening to the worst sounding violin he had ever heard. It was ear piercing, out of tune and not pleasant. At all. And the _scratchiness!_ How was he supposed to do his homework if all he could hear for an hour every day was this _torture_? It made him feel a little less bad about purposely putting his ear closer to the car speakers when his dad drove him to school.

…

By age 11 Connor very much enjoyed the hour after school finished. Like clockwork, the soothing sounds of his soulmate’s violin filtered in to his brain. Really he should have noticed straight away what was actually happening. And it _really_ shouldn’t have taken him a year to figure it out (he was a detective in training, not a real detective). Whoever his soulmate was, they had learnt to play quite quickly. And was good. _Really really_ good.

He had put his growing detective skills to use and figured out the gender of his soulmate (with 94% accuracy because if life taught him anything it was that _anything_ had the possibility of happening). It didn’t bother him really, what gender his soulmate was. All Connor ever wanted besides detective-ing was to have friends and a family. So far he’d gotten one of those but thanks to Gavin he was still lacking in the ‘friends’ department.

But he didn’t _need_ friends because he had one in his head that had never let him down except that one time she fell asleep listening to ‘Barbie Girl’ because there is no reasonable explanation for listening to it for _eight hours_ _straight_ (and if he put Knights of the Black Death on repeat the next day, well, it was nothing but a coincidence).

…

November 5.

8:26pm.

Connor would never forget, could never forget. Could never forget the time and date. Could never forget the heavy rains that night. He could never forget the day his world turned grey with deafening silence.

Nine years had passed since he last heard the beautifully played concertos or the angelic singing of a child’s nursery rhyme. Hell, he’d give anything to hear the Christmas songs she started playing a month early; anything to break the quiet nothingness.

“Hey, Earth to Connor! You there?”

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Connor looked towards Officer Miller.

“You’re up man; we got someone on that double homicide case from way back when you were still in diapers.”

Connor half-heartedly glared at the older man. Chris was a good police officer and a better man. A _friend_. Getting out of his chair, Connor grabbed the case files from his colleague.

“I’ll have you know I’ve been working here for 5 years now.”

 “Yeah yeah, we all know ‘cause you won’t shut up about it,” Chris snorted and dramatically raised both his hands to the ceiling, “Youngest detective in Detroit! Let’s give it up for Connor Anderson.”

Shaking his head, Connor made his way to the interrogation room, preparing himself for his mission; his job. He had a knack for getting confessions out of people. Whether he made himself out to be someone they could trust, or make it seem going to jail was the better alternative to being locked in a room with him.

Flicking through the case file, Connor wondered what approach he’d use today. Already the man’s track record was teeming with drug related felonies and crimes (he’d bet his lucky coin the guy was a red ice junkie).

Three pages in to the litany of DUI charges, Connor noticed a change in the paperwork. Murder suspect was stamped on the top of the page and a feeling of dread pooled in the pit of his stomach.

November 5.

Alice Williams. 6. Missing/Deceased.

Kara Williams. 17. Missing/Deceased.

His world fell away and Connor was lost in the echo of her voice. He had a near perfect memory, but even then he still could never forget. The angelic singing of a child’s lullaby, so sweet it didn’t belong in this fucked up world. The abrupt stop and the beginnings of a scream that whatever magic involved in a soulmate’s telepathic link deemed melodious enough to let him hear. That same scream that never left his dreams (nightmares). That same scream that was the last memory he had of his soulmate.

Connor pressed the palms of his hands in to his eyes, trying to refocus and get himself out of his own mind before the downward spiral of ‘what ifs’ and ‘could have beens’ reared its head.

He didn’t need to see any evidence to know what happened that night. Reaching the door, Connor took a deep breath and straightened his tie.

He shoved the door open with such force that it rattled on its hinges and dented the door stop on the wall. His ears were ringing, and his vision blurred in anger. Slamming the file down on the metal table, Connor glared down the sack of shit in front him. Oh he knew _exactly_ what approach he was going to do today.

END.

…

prompt me up scotty.

 


	6. Dad

Alice calls Connor Dad.

....

After a long day at work, all Connor wanted to do was get home, sit on the couch and defragment for the day. Then he’d take a relaxing walk with their new dog Ollie (it took the combined efforts of both him and Alice to convince Kara that _yes_ the dog would make the dog hair on the couches worth it.)

Instead he came home to a mess in the kitchen, flour and egg shells everywhere and half a bag of choc chips spilled out on the counter. Worst of all, the culprit was not to be found but he had a good idea where she was. Because the planets would collide before Kara left this much of a mess behind (before she made this kind of a mess in the first place the woman was a goddess in Connor’s eyes). The only other person who could have done such an atrocity to his kitchen was about 11 years of age, and short enough to have to use a chair to reach the top cabinets.

Work never ended it seemed, though admittedly this detective work was a lot more enjoyable then finding stilled bodies still warm with life.

Making his way to the foot of the stairs, Connor yelled out one word.

“Alice!”

Soon after, he heard the soft patter of socked feet get closer and closer. Alice peeked around the the wall at the top of the stairs meekly, guilty face on full display.

“Yes, Connor?”

Connor was less than impressed but his record for staying mad at Alice topped at 7.23 seconds.

“I think you’ve forgotten something down stairs. Perhaps you should come get it?”

Creeping forward, Alice made her way down the stairs so slowly Connor was sure someone in a wheelchair could come down faster. Eventually she reached the bottom step, face downturned and shoulders hunched. Connor broke.

“Alice I’m not mad. Really I’m not, but you need to learn to clean up after you’ve made a mess. I’ll help this time but I’m not making any promises _if_ there is a next time.”

Alice perked up immediately, giving Connor a quick hug before running off to clean up.

“Thanks Connor, you’re the best. Well Mum’s the best but you’re definitely second.”

Smiling, Connor followed her to the kitchen, ruffling her hair as he moved past the child to help.

“What were you making anyway? And where’s Kara?”

“Mum? Oh she’s out with Ollie. And the mess? Well I wanted cookies but we didn’t have any so I thought ‘why not make some?’ I mean mum does it all the time it can’t be that hard.”

The 11 year old talked so fast Connors auditory sensors were struggling to keep up. He could understand and speak 50 languages fluently but a hyperactive child befuddles him?

Sighing in resignation, Connor continued cleaning up the flour (how did she manage to get it on the ceiling?)

“It’s alright Alice. When Kara‘s home we can make some. All three of us. Sound good?”

In response, Alice nodded excitedly.

…

It didn’t take long for Kara to return home, Ollie in tow. Barely two steps through the door and Alice was bounding towards her mother.

“Mum, mum! Connor said we’d make cookies when you came home. Quick let’s go right now!”

In response, Kara raised an eyebrow at Connor before turning towards her daughter.

“Did he now? Because I don’t remember agreeing to anything like that.”

Connor at least had the decency to look guilty (she knew he didn’t feel guilty. Not. One. Bit.)

Despite her words, Kara was already making her way to the kitchen, trailing a bouncing Alice while beckoning Connor to follow. Like a well-oiled machine, the three worked in tandem to bake the cookies. Soon, the baked delights were in the oven and the waiting game began.

Alice, however, had far different plans. While Connor and Kara were distracted talking to each other, Alice snuck behind them to the bag of flour. Scooping up as much as her hands could carry, she flung it at the two adults, the white powder colliding with the back of Connors head, showering both Connor and Kara.

All out war followed. And in war there were no winners, only survivors.

The house was a mess, the battleground quickly leaving the kitchen in favour of the more optimal cover provided by the couches. After 15 minutes of sheer chaos, Alice finally ran out of energy (for now, give her 5 minutes and she’d be begging him to make another flamethrower).

Covered head to toe in flour, Alice ran up to Connor with the last of her energy and gave him a tight hug.

“Thanks… Dad.”

END

…

 Fluff to balance the angst.

**Author's Note:**

> Open to prompts. I'll take anything. Otherwise take care.


End file.
